


courage of stars (this is where i go my own way)

by Aricia



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Coda to Golden Age 144, Gen, New Prince of Tennis, No beta we die like mne, Room 201, U-17, or: How room 201 takes a collective level in badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25079179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aricia/pseuds/Aricia
Summary: In the wake of Tezuka's departure, Fuji learns to love tennis, in his own way.
Relationships: Fuji Shuusuke & Tezuka Kunimitsu, Fuji Shuusuke/Tezuka Kunimitsu
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23





	courage of stars (this is where i go my own way)

It's almost embarrassing, how out of sorts the Seigaku regulars become in the wake of Tezuka's departure. Fuji thinks it couldn't be helped, though. They've lost half their members, and now their leader as well. There's only him and Kikumaru left, now; they were once eight, and then there were two.

Fuji hates it, the looks of pity sent his way, the listlessness that settles in like a bad cold that wouldn't go away. He takes to spending the evenings alone on the courts. Neither Yukimura nor Shiraishi look for him. He thinks out of all people, they would understand how it feels to lose a pillar of the team. He doesn't think they quite understand the feeling of losing _Tezuka_ , though. That is a loss that possibly only Oishi understands, but then again, the vice-captain was gone even before Tezuka was.

So in the evenings, Fuji wanders the courts alone. He doesn't start training until late at night, when he's sure most of the camp is already in bed. He holds long rallies against the wall, watches how wind carries tennis balls across the sky. Wonders how to make good on his promise to go even higher than Tezuka.

Sometimes, he resents Tezuka, a little. Tezuka could have just let him _lose._ Fuji would've been content in the knowledge that he will never truly catch up to Tezuka. He could've turned his attention to other things, then. But as it is...

Tezuka had dragged him out of the shadows, and it could end up being either the best or worst thing that ever happened to him.

Fuji is determined that to make it the former.

For that, at least, the next step is obvious. The gap between him and Tezuka wasn't as wide, back in Seigaku—or so he likes to think. After all, Fuji never bothered to play against Tezuka with his full abilities, and Tezuka never asked, either. It _has_ to be the Ten'imuhou that catapulted Tezuka so far away.

That's why after Ryoma shows up again, the first thing he does is to ask for a match. But try as he might, even Muga no Kyochi stays stubbornly beyond his reach.

"It's fun, Fuji-senpai," Ryoma says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Water is wet, the sky is blue, Ten'imuhou no Kiwami can be reached by having a little fun. "It's the key. You need to relax a little bit, give in, and just have fun."

"But I am having fun," Fuji says. "I've been having fun since high school. I wouldn't have stayed in the club if tennis wasn't _fun_."

Ryoma looked unimpressed. "You were having fun playing with people," he said. "Not tennis."

And that—that brought Fuji up short.

Because it's _true_. Fun, for Fuji, wasn't in the tennis itself. He enjoys it the way he enjoys teasing his friends, savouring a challenge, giving an answer, matching wit for wit on the court. It's only after Shiraishi that he'd begun seriously practicing tennis, and even then it had still been for the sake of winning. For the sake of the dream that his best friend would sacrifice his arm for.

Without an interesting opponent, tennis itself bores him. Not so for Tezuka. Tezuka would play no matter who his opponent was; be it a newbie, a genius, or a pro way above his level. He'd play against them all the same, and he'd be perfectly happy doing it.

Walking in Tezuka's shadow, Fuji realizes, doesn't really suit him, after all.

That night, he snaps a photo of the last court they'd played in and sends it to Tezuka. _You were right,_ he sends along with it. Then, because this kind of honesty always makes him uncomfortable, he writes again. _Did you know Niou tried to be you again? He can use the zero-shiki serve now. He still doesn't hold a candle to the real thing, though._

_Fuji,_ Tezuka writes. _It's two in the morning in Japan. Get some sleep._

Fuji smiles. He tucks his phone into his pocket and heads back for the dorms.

The next evening, he trains on his own again. Most of the middle-schoolers are training, too, preparing to take on the high-schoolers, but Fuji has a different goal in mind. Besides, he is already a member of the sixth court, and he doesn't feel the need to move up. His time will come when it comes.

He sees the high-schoolers side-eye him for his lack of interest in the camp's revolution. He doesn't bother with them and their judgments. He _has_ considered attracting their attention, getting a mentor the way Echizen or Kintarou did, but he'd discarded the idea quickly—none of them are suited to be his stepping stone. He's going to have to find his own way. That's fine. He's supposed to be a genius, after all, and anyway, he has a promise to keep.

So, then. If not the Muga no Kyochi—if not Tezuka—what should he be aiming for?

Once upon a time, he could ask Tezuka these things. Once upon a time, he'd been uninterested in asking.

Furious with his past self, Fuji grabs his phone. His racket and tennis balls lay abandoned across the green concrete, discarded in a fit of pique. Fuji carefully aims the camera, tries to capture all his inherent frustration in a single frame. He sends it to Tezuka, with the caption, _You're still the most interesting opponent I've ever played._

Tezuka responds almost immediately. _You're doing it wrong, then_.

Fuji considers the text for a moment. _Am I?_

Tezuka replies, _Ask Shiraishi whom he'd rather have a match with, me or you?_

Shiraishi laughs when he asks the question over breakfast, but it is Yukimura who gives the expected answer.

"Is that insecurity I hear, Fuji-kun?" Yukimura says. "Tezuka is an impressive tennis player, though. Most people in this camp would want to play against him if they could. Including me, I suppose."

Shiraishi regards Yukimura with something like amusement. "I would have said the same thing last year," he says. "But now, I can honestly say I'd rather have a match with Fuji. My bible tennis would be so boring against Tezuka. You, though... you'd keep it interesting."

"You've already won against me," Fuji points out, but Shiraishi shrugs.

"Saa," he says. "Didn't you say you'd never lose to the same opponent twice?"

Fuji considers this over breakfast, over tea, over training. He trips over tennis balls and bumps into rackets so many times that even Yukimura, standing one court over, starts sending him worried looks. He can't help it, though. He feels as if he's missing something—something right in front of his eyes, something just out of his grasp.

The next morning, Yukimura drags Kirihara over at breakfast.

"I'd rather play against Tezuka-buchou," Kirihara says staunchly in the face of Yukimura's inquisitive gaze. He doesn't even look at Fuji before he makes his escape.

Fuji opens his mouth to ask what that was all about, then shuts it again at the speculative look on Yukimura's face. "Akaya-kun seems wary of you."

Fuji couldn't help but frown. "He injured Echizen's knee the day before Kanto Finals. I'm sorry, Yukimura-kun, but I wasn't going to let him win after that."

"It really wasn't very well-done of him," Yukimura agrees, but the speculative look doesn't leave his face.

The thought of Yukimura challenging him to a match fills Fuji with restless energy. He doesn't know how well he'd do against Yukimura, but realizes he wants to try, nonetheless. That evening, he starts to develop a new technique. He decides to call it the Hollyhock Blizzard.

It is the most interesting thing he's done since he'd arrived in the U-17 camp.

He returns to the dorms much earlier than usual, tired but still restless. Finding Shiraishi's roll of bandages abandoned on the side table, he snaps a photo and sends it to Tezuka.

_Where should I go next?_ Fuji types. Seconds later, Tezuka answers, _Wherever you need to go._

"Wherever I need to go," Fuji murmurs, and opposite him, Yukimura shifts on his own bed.

"Are you talking to Tezuka?" He asks, and Fuji nods. "He really is a great buchou, isn't he? But between you and me, it's that rookie of yours you should be watching."

With amusement, Fuji thinks that maybe it wasn't really Tezuka that Yukimura wants a match with, after all. Lucky for him. Echizen is, for the moment, so much less terrifying a goal than Tezuka.

"You might be interested in Kin-chan as well," Shiraishi suggests. "Chitose thought Kin-chan would be the first of us to achieve Ten'imuhou, you know?"

"I just don't get how they do it," Yukimura says. "Echizen-kun told me to just let go, but I can't. And if I can't open that door, what then?"

Yukimura, too, had been a pillar, Fuji realizes. Once, he carries his team's victories and losses on his shoulders. And that means like Tezuka, he would never achieve Ten'imuhou no Kiwami before he lets go of this burden.

But.

_But._

"You should go wherever you _need_ to go," he says, and Yukimura sits up. They turn the words over in their heads for a moment.

"Fuji," Shiraishi says slowly, "Are you trying to say that Ten'imuhou no Kiwami isn't the only way to surpass the likes of Kin-chan, and, well... Tezuka?"

"I wonder..." Yukimura looks thoughtful, "Fuji-kun, when you defeated Akaya-kun, wasn't he using Muga no Kyochi?"

Fuji smiles. "Was he? I couldn't say. Kirihara-kun hit my head halfway through the match, you see. I had to play blind for the rest of it."

Yukimura and Shiraishi looked at each other, and then began to argue.

Fuji doesn't join in, not yet. Instead, he snaps a picture of them, composes the renewed spark of determination in the room into an eternal moment. He sends it to Tezuka.

_Hey, Tezuka,_ writes Fuji. _Next time we meet, I'm going to show you something really interesting._

The next morning, he is greeted with Tezuka's reply. _I'm looking forward to it_.

**Author's Note:**

> Fuji's new arc in Shin Teni is definitely my favorite. It's just too bad Yukimura gets to play against Tezuka instead of Fuji... if Konomi doesn't give us a real Tezuka vs. Fuji match by the end of Shin Teni, I shall be horribly disappointed.


End file.
